


It's just a wish.

by siojo



Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angels, Demons, F/M, Implied Relationships, M/M, Magic, Secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-27
Updated: 2012-09-27
Packaged: 2017-11-15 03:52:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/522833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siojo/pseuds/siojo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time his dad tells him to snap his fingers and make a wish is a week after his mom died. It's not until years later that he learns that when he snaps that he's actually making his wish come true, after all his parents where just as normal as he was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's just a wish.

**Author's Note:**

> Based a little bit on this: http://sadrobotinabowlerhat.tumblr.com/post/31846653566/in-a-perfect-universe
> 
> Because I don't trust myself to write Castiel.

“Snap your fingers and make a wish.” His dad says one night not too long after mom left, because he never says mom is dead even though they both know she is, “Just one.” 

Stiles listens, his fingers clicking as he wishes, and hopes, for Dad to come home safe. It becomes a tradition. Once a week his dad will tell him to snap his fingers and wish for something. By the time he's starting high school his wishes change a little bit. 

He never wishes for Lydia to notice him or to be on the first string because it doesn't feel right. He wishes for his dad to come home safe, for Scott to pass the semester, twice for his mom to come back, and just before school starts, for something amazing to happen. Stiles convinces himself that it's a coincidence when Laura Hale's body is found three days later because it's not like his wishes can actively do things, just like wishing on stars. 

Derek Hale and the hunt for the Alpha that turned Scott make him lose focus. He remembers the night before the dance, which he gets to go to with Lydia, that he hasn't made a wish. He wishes to get rid of the Alpha that's terrifying the town and causing his dad so many problems. 

That night after everything is over Stiles hates himself for not wishing for everyone's safety, for not being able to keep Lydia from being hurt, for Allison having to watch her aunt getting slaughtered before her eyes, as he and Jackson went after Peter Hale with Derek. His dad watches him differently after that night, watches him like he knows something that Stiles desperately doesn't want him to. 

 

“Want one?” Dad asks curiously holding out a lollipop that he had slayed over the couch beside him, “I feel nostalgic.”

Stiles sighs falling down on the chair and sucking on it, “You know you're not suppose to have this.” 

“So?” 

“Should I even bother?” 

His dad smiles, “Probably not. Your mom use to snap her fingers and make these things show up out of no where. I never figured how she rigged it to do that.” 

Stiles wonders sometimes if his mom had been like Derek or Peter or any of the other things they had been forced to deal with if she would have lived to teach him all her tricks. Dad never talks about her unless he thinks it's something that he needs to say, Stiles is happy to be able to remember what she loved. That night he snaps his fingers thinking about the lollipops and blinks in surprise when one appears in his mouth, he shrugs it off as forgetting it was there in the first place. 

After that he stops snapping, he stops thinking about how dad would tell him things about mom because he can't deal with it and everything that's going on. Not with Peter coming back to life and the Alpha pack coming after them. Not with his dad finally, finally, getting his job back because it was all his fault. 

 

“You just have to believe in yourself,” Deaton explains, “You have to believe and wish it real.” 

Stiles doesn't mean to, but he snaps. He snaps and the mountain ash is spread out in the exact shape he wants and it glows bright and there are sigals that he doesn't know. Deaton stares at him for a moment before calling Morrell to come over. They test him, see what he can do with his ability to create and change things. His dad shows up after the fourth time they ask him to do it again. 

“I can explain!” 

His dad laughs, “About the werewolves? Or the snapping? Or the fact that you choose not to tell me about the underground war that I already knew about? I know everything, it's my town son.” 

“No one ever suspects werewolves.” Stiles retorts, “Not even Scott and he was one.” 

“Not everyone is me.” His dad replies as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, “Wanna introduce me to your war meetings and I'll tell you a little more about your thing?” 

Morrell nods and Deaton watches his dad with something close to confusion. Stiles is just happy to finally give answers to all the things that have happened and to stop lying to his dad. He drags him to the next meeting, his dad changing from his normal uniform and into plaid and ripped jeans. His dad doesn't slouch when they walk in, not like he normally does, and everyone turns to stare at him, even Deaton and Morrell. 

“What are you doing here Sheriff?” Chris asks finally breaking the silence, “I thought we agreed not to involve you.” 

“Stiles needs to learn somethings about the family business. My family and his mother's.” His dad replies with a casual shrug, “Unless you want to learn about what you can and can't with out knowing your mother's limits.” 

It's a question, Stiles knows it's directed at him. 

“I need to know my limits.” He agrees, “And knowing mom's would help.” 

“Limits?” Peter asks finally looking up from the maps they have spread out, “What limits?” 

His dad doesn't even blink, “His powers.” 

Scott gapes at them, “You have powers?” 

“Not me,” His dad states rolling his eyes, he is very good at that, “Stiles does. I'm more the research type.” 

The room's quiet until Derek starts talking about the tentative plans they've got set up for the upcoming attack, laying things out so the Sheriff can get caught up. His dad listens, his head tilted and his eyes focusing on the maps, obviously coming up with more plots and theories that they haven't considered. 

Stiles ignores everyone, because they keep jostling him, looking for information that he doesn't want to hand out until his dad is there. He wants to practice but he waits until his dad looks over and nods slightly. It's not for him to start, but it's for coffee, it's code. Dad's chin comes up more then when he nods and his eyes are on the machine in the corner. Stiles closes his eyes and thinks hard about what his dad likes and snaps.

Everything goes quiet again when the cup appears on the table in front of his dad. His dad doesn't react beyond picking it up and taking it sip, like it's normal. And it might be for him, if mom could do the same thing wouldn't she have snapped him up coffee occasionally?

“Stiles?” Erica asks, “Was that?” 

“Yeah, I make stuff.” 

His dad snorts, “Your mom did what ever she wanted with it. Played pranks across the country, it's how we met.”

Chris' head snaps up, “Trickster?” 

“Loki,” His dad answers casually, “That was the name preferred anyway. But yeah, Loki was always one ready to play a prank, even if he didn't care if the person he pranked died.” 

Stiles isn't surprised, well he is, but not by the name. Dad called Mom, Loki, more often then he called her, him?, anything. Except for another name, but he doesn't think he remembers it well enough to ask about it right now. Chris looks scared, like he's walked into something that he didn't know. Like trickster automatically means something else as well. 

“I didn't know that Demi-gods mated with humans.” Chris says finally, stiffly. 

“Loki was an oddity that even I don't fully understand. But that's not what you're looking for.” His dad replies before tapping the map, “Stiles think you can waterproof the mountain ash? We could line the houses and make sure only the Hale pack can get through, protect the dens. They’ll be the first targets, wolves react badly when they don't have their dens.” 

Peter agrees, “Are there any others that we should take care of? Friends that they could use to hurt you or to make you do something you normally wouldn't?” 

“Danny,” Jackson answers automatically, “We should have Danny protected. He's not involved but if they threaten him I'd do anything to protect him.” 

“What about their allies?” His dad continues as if they haven't had another discussion, “What do we know about their abilities?” 

Deaton finally speaks up, “I hear rumors of black mists. My contact vanished not long after that.” 

“Stiles, can you grab my bag from the car? Your mom made it so he couldn't summon it except in times of need.” His dad explains leaning heavily on his hands, “Also the book on top of it.” 

He runs out the room, Boyd follows because that's what he does. He wants to make sure that Stiles doesn't vanish in the time that it takes for him to reach the jeep and pull out what his dad wants. The bag was probably OD Green at one point, now faded and gray with age, while the leather bound journal looks ready to fall apart as his fingers reach for it. 

“Your dad doesn't have a smell.” Boyd says finally, “I don't know if Derek or Peter noticed but I know the others haven't. We didn't even know he was here until he stepped into the room with you.” 

“Scott told me so. Underneath the cologne, dad is scentless. If you want to know you'll have to ask him, I don't know either.” Stiles answers hefting the bag and stumbling under the weight, “Thanks.” 

Boyd takes the bag and lets Stiles keep the journal, following him back inside and to the meeting room. His dad accepts the bag and kneels down to pull it open, shifting through the contents until he pulls out a pouch. 

“Here,” He passes out necklaces to the group, “There will keep you from the mist.” 

Chris looks surprised again, “You know what it is?” 

“Demons, the necklace prevents them from taking control of the body. It's what they do, probably why your contact won't call back.” His dad pauses, “I am sorry, demons ride their vessels hard, he'll probably be dead before he gets here.” 

Morrell stares at his dad, “You know an awful lot about these things.” 

His dad smiles brightly before digging through the bag once more and pulling out a sword and a knife. He places them to the side before flipping open the journal. 

“If I can get some paper,” He smiles at Stiles when the ream of printer paper appears, “I want you to practice these in your off time. Devil's Traps, a couple exorcisms, the works. I should have more necklaces tomorrow for friends and family not involved, you just have to make them wear it.” 

Derek finally speaks up, “Are we just suppose to trust the person that shows up and just happens to know exactly what we're going up against? One that doesn't even bother telling us why he knows any of these?” 

“Would you rather we not know?” Chris asks finally, “We have no idea what's going on, my family don't mess with anything besides werewolves, we're good at. By teaming up with a pack, we've lost the hunters. I have no one that I can call to ask for help or for answers, if the Sheriff happens to know things then I'll wait until after to question him about it.” 

“You can you know,” They turned to him, “Ask me questions, I haven't said anything because I have to be asked direct questions, it's in my job description.” 

Stiles laughs, that's what he always told the new recruits at the station. It's why everyone looks at Stiles when he asks things flat out instead of slowly trailing up to what he wants to know. Derek's been on the receiving end of a Stiles' question session more times then he can count and Scott's given up keeping secrets from his best friend because he's too good at routing them out. 

“Simple as that?” Peter asks curiously, “You'll answer any direct question?” 

“Of course.” 

Deaton asks first, “What's your name?” 

“Samuel, I'm called Samuel.” 

“Samuel Stilinski,” Deaton states slowly, “I don't think that sounds correct.” 

Sam, his dad, nods, “It won't, but then you didn't expect it to." 

“How do you know so much?” That's Chris, he would ask that.

“Research.” 

Chris scowls because Sam's evaded the question, “Are you a hunter?” 

“Yes,” Stiles starts with the rest of the room, “My mom retired and was killed so my father took up the mantle. I was raised to kill the monsters, dad made sure that we could kill anything.” 

Stiles stares at his dad, because his dad is a hunter, a hunter that's lived in town longer then the Argent family and he never went after the Hale's. He left them alone and he helped them when the fire took out their family, he suggested that it was arson because of the melted, twisted locks that held the doors closed. 

“And the trickster?” Morrell asks. 

Sam smiles, “He was horrible, we met when he was playing pranks at a college. Killed a guy who was seducing students from the intro class he taught at a high school and another guy who killed his mom for more money to fund his animal research. Made this frat boy dance with aliens. Killed my family over a hundred times and then saved our lives in the end. Loki was what ever Loki wanted to be, unfathomable and the one person that made me feel in the end. So I married him.” 

“Why don't any of the hunters know you?” Peter questions, “Surely as good as you say you are you must have gotten contacts.” 

“I have, but my name got too big. Wanted by the FBI for murder, grave desecration, fraud, and impersonating government officials.” Sam agrees, “So, Loki and I decided when we settled down we couldn't be who we were. He played house wife and I went into the police department.” 

Stiles jumps up excited, “You're wanted by the FBI!” 

“Yeah, me and my family ended up wanted. I think they still have a price for information on us.” Sam agrees easily. 

Derek calls an end to the meeting because there's school tomorrow and he wants to start up as soon as possible tomorrow. Sam leads the way out to the jeep, waiting for Stiles to start the car before talking. 

“Are you mad?” 

“I don't know, is mom?” 

Sam shakes his head, “He had to go back and take care of somethings. Time passes differently between here and there, I don't know what exactly he's doing but he'll be home eventually.” 

“What if you're dead? Hasn't he thought about that? I mean Loki's an immortal god.” 

“Stiles, I mated Loki, I can't die. I'll live as long as Loki does because he bound us together. We have no idea if it extends to you, all we're sure of is that you have his powers.” Sam smiles, “That's enough for tonight, get some sleep okay?” 

“Sure Dad.” Stiles agrees, “Can you tell me your name before the others?” 

His dad waits until they're parked in the driveway, his fingers twisting together more of the necklaces that he had passed out to the group, moving efficiently through one to another. 

“Winchester.” 

“Winchester as in the Sam Winchester? Brother to the Dean Winchester?” 

“Yes, Sam and Dean Winchester. My brother and I fought the world and won.” Sam faces him looking older then his dad ever has, “And I got you and Loki. Dean got someone just as perfect and ended up fighting away with them. That's where Loki is right now, helping them out.” 

The next day, Sam gives them the necklaces. Scott takes one for his mom, Jackson for his folks and Danny, and Lydia for her parents. Boyd and Erica reach later on when they think no one is watching, Issac doesn't though, his hands clutching to the bottom of his shirt helplessly, because all the family he has left is fighting. 

“So do you have any limits?” Sam asks curiously, “A certain number of snaps or items you can't?” 

Stiles shrugs feeling all the eyes go to him, “Thirty, I got thirty snaps a day. But I can't make buildings or people beyond illusions. I can jump about in time but only five minutes either way.” 

“Hey Stiles, if you're last name isn't Stilinski then shouldn't we call you by your first name?” Scott asks, “Cause I think it does.” 

“Yngvi, it's Norse and has two vowels if you count 'y'. Dad and mom are the only ones who ever pronounced it correctly, unless Dad knows of a nickname for our other last name.” Stiles answers smugly. 

“Your Uncle was Hannibal Lector and I was his emotionally stunted younger brother. According to one of the FBI guys that caught us this one time.” Sam throws out, “But I think that was after that thing with the bank. I am almost sure it was after the bank job, cause we ended up with two full SWAT suits.” 

They're staring at Sam, it's funny because he's sure that his dad's not joking. Sam smiles and Stiles notices for the first time his dad has dimples, what else has he missed about his family that could have told him some of these stories. 

“SWAT suits?” Derek asks, “You expect me to believe you and your brother escaped from the FBI?” 

Sam nods, “Sure, I mean we did it all the time. The Winchesters, the escape artists that faked their deaths more times then could be counted.” 

Chris chokes, his eyes shining with something Stiles thinks might be hero worship. Peter stares, his mouth working but nothing coming out. Deaton and Morrell looked shocked, as if they where expecting something else.

“Winchesters?” Allison speaks for what has to be the first time since her family agreed to help, “I don't think.” 

“John, Dean, Sam. The Winchesters. John's wife was a Mary Campbell, I've mentioned that one, she was killed by a demon when Sam was six months. Their friends where pretty tight lipped about them but there were whispers of the Apocalypse, Angels, Gods, and ancient evils welling up, would have been about twenty years ago now, just before the Stilinski family moved to Beacon hills.” Chris replied, “Winchesters where never known to fail, they always got what they wanted and they never died.” 

“Not true. I've died three times and Dean went down four, but one of the times Dean died was cause he was in Purgatory, I think it counts. The longest time one of us stayed dead was a year, shortest was three hours but we have died. Death was not pleased with us, when we hooked up with immortals he was ecstatic, didn't have to send reapers to see if we where gonna be revived.” Sam corrects, “I mean wouldn't you be upset if someone kept stopping you from doing your job?” 

Stiles sighs, “So we're not normal?” 

“Not really. I mean Loki's your mom and you got me for a dad. Don't worry, it's fun.” Sam promises, “Or ironic, either way.” 

“Great, just what I needed.” 

Sam shrugged, “Right, so planning. I love a good plan, almost as much as I love my family. Training, Chris and I can take the humans, Peter and Derek can have the wolves, Deaton and Morrell can have Lydia. I'll train Stiles in his mom's work, cool?” 

 

Everything goes kinda wonky after that. Chris and Sam train them to fight, Lydia complains for the first few weeks because of the muscle that she'll build but she stops when she realizes it's not getting her anywhere. Allison is still best at the bow, Chris buys her a new one weeks later, stronger then the one she's been using even though it takes time to adjust to. Stiles likes blades, his dad teaching him how to use the knife from the other day and a sword that's a little bit higher then his waist when he rests it on the ground. His dad throws Lydia a gun and says to keep firing until she runs out, she hits the targets perfectly each time, not always in the center, but always on the target and even one hit with the bullets they've got will take down a werewolf so it works. 

And at night, before Derek sneaks into his window, even though Sam totally knows that he's coming in, his dad tells him stories of what he did before. Of when there was just Sam and Dean and a Chevy Impala that glided down the roads that took them to and from hunts and when it all went to Hell, sometimes literally. He never talks about what happened when he jumped into the Cage taking two of the four arch-angels with him but he talks of the hallucinations that come later and Stiles wonders just how long it took to fix his dad. Of Castiel who fell for his brother and Gabriel who died for them and come back in the end to help them once more. Friends they lost and enemies they defeated before they finally chose to do something where they wouldn't be hunted, where they could live as normally as they could. Stiles never asks if his dad regrets it, even when his eyes are distant and his voice cuts off because he couldn't stand knowing he took something his dad loved to do. 

But they train and they improve until they've got everything set up, their homes are safe and their families agreed to wear the necklaces even if they don't understand. If between his dad and Chris Argent the town is mostly empty the night that the Alpha pack attacks then it's all for the better, those that remained protected by mountain ash and demon traps and anti-possession charms. 

 

“Stiles,” Sam says carefully loading another magazine and attaching it to the vest they made for Lydia, “I want you to promise me something.” 

“Dad?” 

“You are not going to die, understood?” 

“Of course not, come on, we need to get to our posts.” 

Stiles hopes he's not lying because like dad said they don't know if he'll come back if he dies, they don't know if he'll come home in one piece like his dad will, but he'll try. Derek corners him just as he slips out the door, pressing him against the wall until there's no room and kissing him breathless. 

“You better come back.” 

“I will. You better do the same.” 

Derek doesn't say anything, but Stiles knows him better then anyone else, he knows that Derek will fight his way back like he's done every time before. He'll come back even if he won't live any longer then that. They break off, Stiles headed toward Jackson and Derek's going to keep Allison, a hunter and a wolf as far as they can spread them. 

His dad will be with Peter, Boyd with Morrell, Issac with Chris, Lydia with Scott. They're kept separate to make sure they fight harder, to work their skills. Sam hadn't liked the idea, but Chris had and they where going to spread thin as it was, they didn't have enough people to fight their war and they couldn't risk Deaton with the field in case one of the human needed help, Melissa McCall agreeing to join him in his office, Erica to watch their backs in case anything slips into town. 

Jackson says it's Issac that lets out the howl to the others that the Alpha packs arrived, before Boyd joins. Scott's the last one howl when Stiles readjusts his grip on his knives, almost as large as scythes, and checking the string attaching them to his sleeves should he let go for a moment to snap. Their group is there in minutes, growling and laughing at the dismal security they've scrounged up. Stiles kills the first one to insult Derek, taking them by surprise before ducking back, letting Jackson swerve in to take the one directly behind the one he's got. 

“Wanna say that again?” He challenges, “We're gonna keep our town and if it means we gotta kill you then that's what we'll do.” 

“Get him.” 

Jackson howls moments into the fight, because there are too many, Stiles snaps up mountain ash, keep them from moving too far. Cuts through as many as he can, silver panted with wolf's bane leaving poison behind in it's wake. Eventually it's too much and they fall back, moving away and stopping where they left supplies earlier. Stiles grabs the throwing knives while Jackson gulps down the water, handing it over and throwing it away when the Alpha pack comes back into view. One of them stopping short, a wicked silver sword poking out it's chest. 

“I leave for ten years and the town goes to hell, what has Sam been doing?” 

They take the Alpha Pack's confusion for their own advantage, taking out three more before even bothering to glance at who ever joined them, the wolves moving back into action. 

“So come here often?” The short man from before asks when he and Stiles are forced back to back, “Or is this just a side job?” 

“Who doesn't wanna kill a couple wolves? Dad said as long as they start it then we can finish it. You?” He replies catching that claws of one wolf with his blade and swinging the other round to take off the hand.

“Been away on business, looks like I came home just in time.” 

Jackson rips away a couple from his side, blue eyes glowing, “Less talking, more killing.” 

“I can talk and kill, in fact,” Stiles adds ducking another set of claws, “I bet I can kill more while talking then you can while not talking.” 

The man snorts, “God you two are ridiculous.” 

They don't bother commenting as the attack starts easing off, the wolves falling or running. Jackson lets a quick howl out to check on the others, telling them to move to other groups, his orders are to stay put. The guy takes off running toward Derek and Allison while Stiles heads off toward Scott and Lydia because he can not see Derek covered in blood and keep fighting logically like he wants to. Lydia looks up from where she's settled on a roof top when a knife come flying into the fray and taking out one trying to sneak up on Scott, a snap and she's got more ammo then before and she lets out three rounds and slaps in a new magazine. 

“Stiles?” Scott asks when he gets a second to breath, “I thought?” 

“Jackson and I got a little help, our sector's clear. Jackson stayed behind to guard it, I was told to go help out.” Stiles spits out as claws rake down his side and catch what little isn't covered by the Kevlar vest that each of the humans had been ordered to fight with.

Scott looks ready to run over, but Stiles glares, hoping he understands that they don't have time to worry about his side right now, because a couple of the guys that Lydia's shot haven't gone down and their eyes are flashing black. Which means Dad was right to give them the necklaces, Latin bubbling at his lips before Scott's noticed and Lydia yells joining him before they run out of range, black smoke pouring out of their mouths and Stiles snaps them back to Hell because they sure as fuck can't stay topside. They clear out soon after that, Lydia hitting more then a few of those left to run. 

Scott does a quick check, telling them that Jackson is still fine and they are to move on. Stiles climbs up the building to grab Lydia. 

“Thanks,” She mutters picking up the last couple mags she's got left and adjusting the shoulder strap of her rifle before taking his hand, “For the ammo and the help.” 

He grins, a quick snap taking them to Issac and Chris, a second giving both Lydia and Chris more ammo, and a third to replace the knives he's losing because he can't always find them and he lost six help Scott out. He's got thirty-five tops, and he's used six, but who knows when he'll need to use them and he wants to know how many more he's got before he can't use them again. 

“Get down,” Chris ducks and Stiles knife embeds through the wolf's eye and sinks into the skull, “Need a little help?” 

They don't make it any further, they have too many here and they're joined by Morrell, because she and Boyd have finished up. She tells them that Derek's end has cleaned up and it's just here and with his dad that's still getting attacked, yelling over the noise and Issac relaying it to Stiles, who's too far forward to hear it. 

He screams when a wolf sinks it's teeth into his arm, holding tight and biting hard enough to break bone, he stabs the knife in his other hand through it when it loosens up enough for it to stop feeling like he's about to die. Issac is at his side in seconds throwing another to the ground while Chris pulls him back. 

“We don't know what will happen to you.” Chris warns taking a knee by his side and wrapping it up best he can, “You could very well turn and lose your magic.” 

Stiles nods, “I know.” 

Chris stays beside him, aiming for wolf after wolf with Lydia like it's a game, Morrell charming away the demons that think they're going to slip past. Issac stumbles and Stiles snaps, the water hitting the others hand before he realizes he's done it. He can't snap away the enemy, he's until just got it so that he transports more then himself, but he can help with the demons and give the wolves the run around, so he does. 

He's down to three snaps and they still have more wolves then they care to count when the man who helped before shows up, literally appearing in the middle of the fight and sticking a sword through another wolf, Chris looks most impressed. 

“What happened to you?” 

Stiles grins, “Got bit, broke my arm. Ya know, risks of fighting werewolves huh?” 

“I can fix that.” He offers, “If you want.” 

It's hard to be casual in the midst of a battle, but Stiles thinks that maybe he likes doing it, so he says please because he doesn't want to get turned now, he wants to keep fighting instead of sitting uselessly now all the demons are finally gone. It works, his arms better and the guy promises that he's not a wolf, so it's all pretty okay. 

They regroup at the clinic, crowding in to check on each other. Derek growls and grumbles before pulling Stiles close and refusing to let go even after his dad walks in and starts talking to everyone else. 

“Stiles,” Sam finally corners him, “There's someone I want you to meet.” 

The guy from earlier is standing off to the side, watching everyone, “Who is this Sammich?” 

“Dude, that is so not cool. You can't call him Sammich.” Stiles rolls his eyes. 

“Stiles this is Gabriel. Gabe, you remember our son.” 

 

Scott doesn't marry Allison, she moves to Maine with in days of graduation, she doesn't leave her father an address and she never comes back, she could be anywhere in the end. But he does have some kind of odd thing that goes on with Issac that Stiles doesn't look into because that's more then he is willing to know. Jackson is Jackson, he and Lydia marry just out of high school but she refuses to have children until she has her doctorate, Stiles promises her that she won't, it's not a bad wish to grant. Boyd and Erica leave in the end, vanish in different directions and Derek lets them go because he's not going to force them to stay. Peter does, but that's got more to do with Chris Argent then anything. Which Stiles stops thinking about because gross.

It's not sunshine and roses, sometimes Stiles wishes it was but he never snaps his fingers so it doesn't work like that. Gabriel left a little kid behind and came back to find that his son was almost an adult, and in love with a werewolf, he had blamed Sam for that, the Winchester family curse. Turned out that Castiel was his uncle, mated to his Uncle Dean, both of whom where fighting wars in heaven, which was why they never came to visit. But eventually things are better. And maybe he becomes Sheriff when his dad retires because, hey, he needs a new family tradition because he is not going to actively hunt, not with the insanity that he deals with. But it's his life and he kinda likes it that way.


End file.
